


Foxholes

by ManDicktheTittySmithy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Armor Kink, Bodyguard, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Mandalorian sex--and the helmet stays on, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29428680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManDicktheTittySmithy/pseuds/ManDicktheTittySmithy
Summary: Ten months into his time in the Mandalorian Civil War, Obi-Wan has very little Jettise left in him. This makes it difficult to resist what's in front of him.Satine, for all that her morals dictate peace, has always been a sucker for a mando in full beskar'gam.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Foxholes

“Well, that was entirely unpleasant.” sad Obi-Wan as they slid into the foxhole.

Satine tried to hit him.

He caught her hand in a crushing grip, and she shivered at the cold metal of his gauntlets.

“So violent, your Grace.” he said mockingly.

Satine glared. As the months had passed, he’d gotten very disrespectful. The Jedi self-containment was gone, and he was… nearly Mandalorian. The armor he’d put on as a disguise months ago had never come off, and if he hadn’t had the lightsaber still…

“That’s a bit hypocritical of you to say,  _ Mando _ .” she growled accusingly.

Sometimes she wondered if it was even necessary for him to swear to the Resol’nare. It was as if he was born living it; every part of her culture that she hated distilled into a single person.

He chuckled lowly and leaned against the wall. The echo of it through his vocoder caught at something inside her she hated deeply, spreading through her lower belly like a disease. “Unlike you I haven’t sworn off violence, Duchess, and I don’t think I ever will.”

“Some peacemaker you are.”

She tried to step threateningly towards him, but he loomed over her like she was nothing. She could see her angry reflection in his visor and for a moment she was so angry she really wished she could hit him--not that it would do much good through forty pounds of beskar.

“I’m not nearly brave enough for politics. That’s what I’m protecting you for.”

Clearly they were getting nowhere, and she tried to grab for his helmet. If she could just meet him eye to eye, then maybe they could get somewhere. At the very least, it would be a step away from the resemblance to certain sets of dreams she would never admit to.

He’d been unfortunately attractive even  _ before _ he was swathed in the sharp lethality of full armor. Now… Satine was stuck somewhere between wanting to stab him and wanting to fuck him and she emphatically did not know how to deal with it.

Her grasping hands were stymied by the crush of his gauntlets; she should have known he’d respond to having his buy’ce touched as well as any other Mando. “Don’t.” he said dangerously.

Satine stormed off the five feet to the other side of the foxhole, and collapsed against the wall. “Why can’t you just be… I don’t know, like you were supposed to.”

“Like I was supposed to be?” he asked. His head tilted in amusement, and his voice was bitterly sharp. “Tell me, your grace. How was I supposed to be?”

“You’re a kriffing Jetii, Obi-Wan. Six months ago when I heard they were sending Jedi protectors, I thought I might find, I don’t know, a kindred spirit in the values of nonviolence. Someone dedicated to bringing peace to my system, maybe. And instead I got you, this… half-feral ramikad with more weapons than sense.”

“Oh, your grace, I never knew you thought so well of me.”

Clearly, he had chosen to take that criticism in the way of a Mando who was  _ not _ a part of the New Mandalorian movement. Satine was close to screaming in frustration.

Instead, she chose to make herself more comfortable. A week ago, they’d been briefly hosted by one of her allies, and she hadn’t had time to change into clothes suitable to fleeing for her life before fleeing for her life. As a result, her dress was stiff with mud, and sticky with sweat. In the searingly hot night, it was horribly uncomfortable. Removing the outer layers, she folded them neatly and used them as a cushion, stretching her legs and rolling her neck. Then she took down her hair, intending to rebraid it.

Before she could start, she felt more than saw the shift in his attention. He was watching her.

She’d been on the edge of arousal for a long time, since their argument had started, really, on the battlefield above their hiding place. It wasn’t good timing, but apparently her appetites didn’t care about the explosions she could still hear, though they’d moved to be more distant.

And now here they were, with her in nothing but a shift that was nearly sheer with how fine the cloth was, and him fully armed and armored--and looking at her like  _ that _ . He could kill her so easily, or take her, or do anything really, and she couldn’t stop him. That thought somehow made her painfully wet.

For a moment they were both still, and she had the feeling that behind that faceless helmet he was devouring her with his eyes.

“Well don’t stop on my account, your grace.” he said roughly. “After all, I’m just your bodyguard.”

Abruptly, Satine remembered that Jedi were perfectly capable of sensing people's emotions. There was no possible way he didn’t know how badly she wanted him. (even when he was in full armor. Especially when he was in full armor.)

Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or the anger, or the sheer frustration of months of inaction and pointless violence, but she found herself in an odd mood. She really shouldn’t be doing this.

Instead of stopping, she stretched upward, running her fingers through her hair and arching her back. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” she said.

“Satine-”

She cut him off with a scornful wave, as haughty as she could manage. “You forget yourself  _ Mando. _ After all, you are only my bodyguard.”

“Of course. I must do whatever my lady wishes.” he said. The sarcasm in his voice bordered on contempt, and somehow that sent a jolt of pleasure through her nether regions so sharply that she needed to shift in her seat.

Before she could lose her nerve, she shifted across the small space, and settled herself in his lap, facing him. “Then you simply must help me with these ties.” she said.

Her shift was designed to be taken off easily, a tie at the neck and one at the waist all that was holding the layered garment together. It felt a hundred times better when he did it, however. The rough leather and metal of his gauntleted hands brushed against her neck and waist, and she knew her panties were already soaking just from that.

“I suppose you’ll be needing help with the undergarments as well.” he commented dryly, already reaching for the clasps of her armorweave stays.

“Very considerate, Mando. I might make a bodyguard of you ye-ah!”

She was unable to finish as the stays came off and rough leather brushed deliberately against her nipple. He kneaded her breasts mercilessly, his other hand grabbing for her ass as she helplessly ground down onto the cold metal of his codpiece.

Her fallen shift rustled around her as he pulled it away, and then he relieved her of her drawers through the simple method of ripping them off. She was now completely bared, even as he was fully covered.

Ka’ra, she’d never thought she could be so pleased without even the sight of a face or the taste of lips.

His hands traveled appreciatively over her flanks, and she let out a sound somewhere between pleasure and frustration.

Almost without thinking, her hands traveled beneath her, lingering near the crux of her own legs for a moment before reaching past, finding the catch that attached the codpiece to the rest of his armor.

His bodysuit was visibly tented beneath it, and it was the work of seconds to peel back some of the bottom section of it, until his cock was freed, resting lewdly against him, the only vulnerable part of his whole form.

Satine groaned in appreciation, and if she hadn’t already been wetter than she’d ever been, she would have become such quickly.

She could hear his breath through his helmet, and was pleased to see that he was too overcome for even a mocking comment, which was a new experience in regards to him. His hands on her ass guided her downwards, even as she grasped his cock, lining it up and lowering herself onto it.

When he bottomed out, she was breathing hard, unable to move for a second. She was by no means a virgin, but his cock felt like it was spearing her in half, larger than anything she’d taken before by a significant margin.

“Ka’ra, you’re enormous.” she breathed.

He said nothing, waiting, though his hands wandered, paying far too much attention to sensitive pieces of her anatomy. Here she was undone, and he was sitting against the wall like he had been from the beginning, the only sign of anything happening being the cock she could even now feel throbbing inside her.

She rocked a little bit, testing, and then ground as deeply into him as she could, stifling a whine.

“Move, dammit.” she commanded harshly.

His hands tightened around her waist, and his legs shifted, but he didn’t buck against her even slightly. And then he chuckled. “No, I don’t think I will.” he said.

He’d let her take the lead until then, but she could feel the balance of power shifting. He had her naked and helpless in his lap and he knew it. She knew it too, and it had her clenching on him almost involuntarily. He had complete control over her, and it was intoxicating.

“If only you could see yourself, your grace.” he said, and she rocked forward, needing the friction and completely unable to stop herself.

“Mewling. Desperate. Rubbing yourself on me like you simply can’t help it.”

Satine did whine then, raising herself slightly and sinking back down, lost in the pleasure of it.

“I don’t need to touch you at all, you’re too far gone to need anything more than a cock to bounce on.”

His hands clenched around her thighs as she brought herself up again, spearing herself on him harder.

“Just the thought of me makes you wet, Duchess. An empty little hole just waiting to be filled.”

She started to get into a rhythm, breasts bouncing and hips writhing as she shoved herself more desperately on him.

“You’re a hungry little slut aren’t you. Enjoying every moment as you fuck yourself on my cock.”

She moaned then, and to her surprise, the name that came out was not his given one. “ _ Mando _ ”

“Oh yes. You like that too, don’t you. You would hump my armor even if I wasn’t in it, you’re so desperate.”

She moaned again, and her breath hitched.

“You would do anything I told you to. Anything to have me inside you, telling you what to do. You’re helpless against your desires, against me.”

“Please… please.” she gasped, unsure of what she was even asking for.

His hips came up with a snap, meeting her as she came down, and she gasped, almost to the edge.

“I like that. I like you begging, cyar’ika. Under my command. Riding me like that, like it’s what you’re meant for.”

The new angles sent jolts through her that she could hardly control, and she cried out. “Ah. Ah. Please. Gedet’ye.”

He fucked up into her harder, and she nearly screamed, bouncing on his dick like it was the only thing she was capable of.

She was quickly losing her rhythm, but he was relentless, and she came with a gasp, still fucking herself sloppily onto his cock. His hands moved from where they’d been wandering, and he grasped her hair, pulling her in to hold her forehead against his, a nearly gentle kov’nyn at odds with his last few brutal thrusts.

“Cyar’ika.” he gasped, shaking.

“Yes yes. Cum in me mesh’la, gedet’ye. I want to feel you-”

He did, and if she hadn’t been largely fucked out, she might have come just from the force of it.

Afterwards, she looked up at him, still expressionless under his buy’ce but for how tenderly he held her, still sloppy and bare, and still in his lap.

“You know, I don’t believe the battle above will be done for hours.”

“I don’t think we will be either.” she said.

He seemed unsure for a moment. “I must confess,” he said, “I have no idea what came over me, I surely didn’t mean-”

“Obi-Wan, that was the best sex of my life, if you dare take back a word of it, I really will try to strangle you.”

“Still so violent, cyar’ika.” he said.

She grinned. “Maybe you’ll have to correct the behavior. I might even call you Alor’ad next time.”

“Oh Satine.” he said, bringing her in for another kov’nynir.

She grinned. “Still forgetting yourself, Mando.”

“Never.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prior to writing this fic, I was not aware that I had an armor kink. Then I started writing what was intended to be some basic Satine/Obi-Wan smut and... the helmet kept staying on.
> 
> Anyway, here's to self discovery I guess?


End file.
